


If It's Not A Suit And Tie, It's Sexy

by Who_Dat



Category: Football RPF
Genre: English Premier League, M/M, Tottenham Hotspur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 15:27:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7444309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Who_Dat/pseuds/Who_Dat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>•</p><p>He's really hoping he can turn Eric on, get him so horny he'll take one look at Dele and want to tear his clothes off.<br/>•</p><p>In which a new kit is unveiled and mischief ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If It's Not A Suit And Tie, It's Sexy

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw Tottenham's new kits and had to write something about these two. Personally the only kit I like is the away one. Still, I'm way too happy about the Leicester Champions League kit so Kit Fic, why not?

"I look awful."

Eric's been moaning for the past twenty minutes. It's the big kit reveal for the upcoming season, and it's fair to say he hasn't been taking it well.

"Come on, they're not that bad mate." Dele tries nonchalantly. At least they're trying to make a statement, whatever that statement may be.

"I think gold's a good look for you." He continues, poking Eric's side. Eric's far too ticklish, so he's unable to stop himself from flinching.

"Immature." He says, with a dramatic roll of the eyes.

"I'm not the one complaining over my pictures."

"Because you can actually take a picture."

Dele shrugs, he's usually fairly natural in front of the camera while Eric struggles, far too stiff for his own good in any type of formal photo.

"Why me...?" Eric buries his head in his hands. He's being a tad too dramatic for Dele's liking.

"Well I think you look sexy." He leans down to plant a kiss to Eric's head.

"You're a hunk Eric Dier."

Eric slaps at him.

"In public!" He hisses. Eric's generally like this, hates when Dele pushes his buttons. He's not exactly pushing them, so to speak, but he is hovering fairly close. Eric hates being all lovey-dovey in public, prefers to keep their relationship as private as possible.

Still, they're not exactly in public. They're in one of the media rooms that's often used for SpursTV interviews. An hour ago a few lads were milling about, but now it's just the two of them. Neither of them have been scheduled for any interviews, but Eric's in need of comfort and seems glued to the spot at the moment, so here they are.

"You're so tense love."

And he is, Eric's always expecting the worst, though he does suppose it's possible that anyone could barge in at any given moment.

"I just can't show my face out there..." Eric goes back to the kits. Dele's fairly sure no one will give him all that much stick for the photos, maybe Kyle, but Kyle gives everyone stick, so it's nothing new.

"I just want to get out of this thing, then maybe I can do it." He's dressed in the gold third strip. Out of the three, it's by far Dele's least favourite. Sure, gold's technically the colour of champions, but a gold top on gold bottoms isn't doing it any favours. It's a nightmare with Dele's complexion as well, he's not exactly looking foreword to wearing it.

"I'd be happy to take off your clothes for you." He's grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Eric groans internally. His boyfriends sex clock never stops ticking, does it?

"Get away from me, horny bastard." Eric mutters. Only Dele could turn an ugly strip into a kinky excuse for intercourse.

"Hmph." Dele scoffs, leaning back against the sofa. "Worth a try."

"What do you think of the kits though DelBoy? Not my pictures, just the kits." Eric attempts to change the subject. Knowing Dele, he's probably looking for a make out session on the sofa and Eric really doesn't want to get into it at the training ground, meaning it's time to distract him.

"They're okay I guess. The third strip really suites you, our Golden Boy." Dele smirks at him, the tease.

"You wanna give me a serious take Dele?"

"I like the away kit, looks decent on me."

"Everything looks decent on you."

"You're too kind, but seriously, I'm not all that into the fashion side of football, I'd play in rags if I had to."

"You're such a sap."

"I get it from you."

They're both grinning at each other now, faces inches apart. Dele's ready to initiate the kiss when they're interrupted by the one and only, Harry Kane.

"What are you lads up to?"

"Eric's distraught about his camera skills." Dele's the first to recover, slowly inching his way back from Eric's face. He does it so effortlessly too, Eric can instantly tell Harry's completely bitten on it.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, you look alright." Harry's always fairly upbeat, doesn't like to hit his teammates when they're down.

"What are you up to H?" Dele attempts to change the subject. The last thing he needs is more moaning from Eric.

"Doing an interview, back to training sort of thing, so we need this room."

"So you're here to tell us to piss off?" Dele giggles, getting himself up from the sofa. Eric quickly follows, his cheeks are a pale shade of pink, probably pissing himself over almost being found out.

"Yep, now piss off." Harry laughs, Dele loves this side of Harry, the imperfect side of Tottenham's shining star.

"Yes sir." He mock salutes, leading Eric out of the room.

Eric lets out a sigh of relief, causing Dele to smirk triumphantly.

"Looks like you owe me one Diet."

"You were the one who was trying to kiss me, don't owe you a thing." Eric mutters, heading towards the training ground exit. Dele's surprised not to see anyone, most of the lads must've taken off.

He gets the idea when they're in the parking lot. Eric's throwing his stuff in the backseat of his car when Dele notices the kits spread out across the passenger seat. He shoves them in his bag as discreetly as possible. Eric's too busy with his things to notice.

"Gotta run Diet, I'll see you later." He says, retreating to his car. He's already speeding down the road when he receives a barrage of texts, undoubtably from Eric. He doesn't look at them until he's pulled into his driveway.

_> care to explain why you stole all my stuff?_

Dele just smirks, retreating inside. He already knows Eric will eventually come for him, so he'll need to make quick work of this.

He digs through his drawers until he finds a black Sharpie pen. He pulls out the home kit. It doesn't have Eric's name or number on it yet, just for show, which is where his Sharpie comes into play.

The materials fairly easy to write on, so he's able to get his message across quickly.

He makes block letters, just so it looks a tad more realistic.

Still, there's nothing much realistic about the ' _Dier's bitch_ ' now permanently edged onto the shirt. He even makes a nice number fifteen, he's mad proud of it.

He slides it on and grins. He doesn't mind the home kit. It's nice and tight fitting, really brings out his shape. Eric being Eric had simply scoffed when he tried it on.

_"It's way too fitting, yeah?"_

Dele had only shook his head. Eric's practically the king of baggy clothing, so there's no use complaining.

He matches the kit with the tightest pair of boxers he can find. He's real glad he hasn't eaten anything today, because it only takes a couple minutes of struggling to slide them on, rather than the twenty it normally does. Eric loves them though, says they really bring out his ass.

He's really hoping he can turn Eric on, get him so horny he'll take one look at Dele and want to tear his clothes off.

He sprawls himself out onto the bed, his dark skin a brilliant contrast to the classic white sheets. He tangles himself up in the covers, making sure Eric's able to see just enough of him upon his entrance.

His boyfriend arrives right on cue, eyes widening at the sight of him.

"What are you wearing?" Eric sounds surprisingly subdued, but that'll be fairly easy to fix. Dele slips out of the covers, back lying firmly on the bed.

"Oh nothing." He grins.

"Only one of the tops you stole off me." Eric mocks, laying down next to him. He places a firm hand on Dele's abdomen, smirk playing across his lips.

"Can I take it off?"

"Don't you wanna get a good look first?" Dele teases, rolling on top of him. Eric catches a flash of the writing, eyes instantly widening.

"Dele..." He says, incredibly slowly,

"What did you do...?"

Eric flips him over before he can even think up a cheeky response. Dele doesn't even have time to explain before Eric loses it.

"Are you mad? This isn't mine! I have to return it! Don't tell me it's permanent!"

"It's Sharpie actually..." Dele says quietly. He honestly just wants to melt. Eric's absolutely livid.

"So let me get this straight. You decided to destroy someone else's property just to get in my pants?"

"... Maybe?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"... You don't like it Eric...?" It comes out small, practically heartbroken. He thought this would be perfect, something Eric would love, give him a good chance to relax after a pretty miserable day.

"Dele, you owe me so much for this..." Eric mutters, nuzzling his head against Dele's hair.

"... I'm sorry..." He mutters. He wants to disappear. He's a disgrace really, can't even please his own boyfriend.

"You'll have plenty of time for that later."

"What do you mean later?"

"As much as I want to hate you right now... I need to fuck you."

"Aww Diet, you're so romantic."

"Shut it you horny fuck, you knew damn well what you were doing."

Dele can't help but grin.

"Maybe."

"I hate you."

"Love you too Diet."

~

"You can't be serious."

"I am, this is payback. You have to wear it all day, everywhere you go."

"What if I want to go out?"

"You're still wearing it, if anyone asks it's cause you lost a bet. Besides, we all know you're not going anywhere."

"Yeah, and who's fault is that?" Dele retorts. His ass is absolutely aching. He's almost positive he can't move, and even if he can, there's no way in hell he's leaving the house.

Still, he's not exactly in the mood to wear the shirt any longer. He'd rather pull on one of Eric's big hoodies to cover his naked body and sleep it off for the rest of the day.

He's fairly sure Eric's fallen in love with the shirt. Or fallen in love with the idea of Dele being his bitch. Either way, he seemed ridiculously into it last night, and boy can Dele feel it.

Dele's positioned so that he's lying on his stomach, trying to give his muscles a bit of relief. Eric's looking down at him and Dele can tell he's smirking.

"Quit looking at my butt, perv." He groans.

"I'm not, I'm looking at your back."

"I can feel your eyes on my butt."

"Yeah, back, I'm taking in all of it."

"Perv." Dele confirms.

"I'm not a perv if you like it."

"What if I don't like it?"

"You're grinning like mad, so flattered." Eric scoffs.

"You're pure sex DelBoy, I love you like this, all mine."

"So you're possessive?" Dele teases. He had a feeling. Generally whenever any girl takes a look at him Eric's shooting them a glare that could melt an iceberg.

"Don't tell anyone." Eric whispers seductively, tracing out the letters on Dele's shirt.

"I like this look on you, all mine..."

"Me too."

The kiss is soft and sweet, no desperation behind it, no sexual urges driving them on.

It's just him and Eric.

Eric and him.

And he wouldn't have it any other way.

 

 


End file.
